


3 Dates

by seraphienus



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Family Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-07-21 18:26:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7398598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seraphienus/pseuds/seraphienus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU: When a single dad meets an asshole as big as himself, 3 dates is all it takes to make or break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Promised Date

**Author's Note:**

> Look at my attempt at even doing duo fics... given my history of writing, this may likely not go too well as I hope... Just something that came to mind and amidst all the Reaper76 ideas I may have, I chose this one. But let's see where it takes us to :) 
> 
> Oh and I don't know what tags to put for the time being so I'll keep it simple. I'll just add on as appropriately as the story develops hopefully.

There is a saying: People come from all walks of life.

Some were born with the silver spoon; some had to crawl their way out of the muddy pool.  
Some were born smart and talented; some were born unpalatable and difficult.  
Some were angels fallen to the ground; some were devils put to trial.

Some could try for all eternity pursuing their dreams, attempting time and time again hopeful that this could be it but to only be tossed from heavens above back to mortal world. That's why there’s another saying: Never give up on your dreams. It’s never too old to start. _Cliché_ , perhaps even unrealistic, because this must have been created by people who clearly had no sense of realism, where their feet only stepped on cloud nine instead of the bed of burning charcoal testing the endurance of life itself. When their wings have been plucked from their backs, defeathered and torn apart, would they continue to believe in dreams and soar, or would they crash and burn into the pits of abyss? One could only watch and observe, for everyone is destined to walk a different path in life itself from another.

This could be said for a particular man who’s had his fair share of odds against him for most parts of his life, defrocked and removed from his deserving path if only he had known it was coming his way.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, stop fuckin’ moping around wasting our goddamn precious time, Reyes! I want this slab of wall cemented, concreted and fixed before the fuckin’ storm comes in tomorrow!”

He had to force himself to look away from rolling his eyes at his employer, feeling the spit stuck in his throat hoping for somewhere to aim and empty itself if the fucker’s slimy leather shoes weren’t the most perfect to place it. Grimacing, he cranes his back after hours of bending over loading and unloading powdered cement and red bricks from said point A to point B, garage to garden, because his fucking sidekick slipped out on him with the blatant excuse of loose stools—like he wasn't losing his shit already. That's excluding the actual work of aligning, realigning and slapping the bricks together piece by piece till God knows when it's time to stop. He takes a deep breath before he looks at the posh—but old motherfucker standing in front of him with his arms folded across his chest, if they hadn’t by chance merged with his stomach yet.

“Well if you ain’t looking close enough, there’s only a pair of arms, a pair of legs doing shitty work meant for two pairs of each. So if you want it done on time, just get the fuck out of my way and take a walk.”

The employer scowled at him indignantly but left nonetheless, probably annoyed at why he'd spent money on someone who even cussed at his own client. Vice versa to the man Reyes, namely Gabriel Reyes, who wondered why he had even taken up this job in the first place. For one, he hates people meddling in his affairs; two, he generally hates people whose mouth ain't as smart as they think.

But he had to make ends meet. Life had been a little different five years ago and he knew if he hadn’t made the decision then, his life would have turned out very differently than it has become now. Touche though, he mentally slapped himself.

He taps the end of his cigarette on the walkway of the garage before placing it back between his lips, sitting on top of one of the large quart buckets holding his supplies while he flips through his phone. 23:11 on his screen before he tucks it back into his bum pocket, way past the time he had planned to go back originally. _If only that son'vabitch didn't call out on this shit._ Hauling the buckets to the back of his cheyenne, he watches his disgruntled client come out with his cash unwillingly towards him. And even though he tried to chase him off immediately, he made sure to count it just to be sure he wasn't short-changed because he had no intention to see that fuckface ever again.

"You're late. You said you'll be home by ten. We were supposed to watch Dora the Explorer together."

Gabriel sighs as he drops his keys above the shoe cabinet and himself on the couch beside it, kicking boots off from his ankles. He may be tired, exhausted and sleepy from a day's work, but it doesn't mean he's forgotten what he's promised. It also doesn't mean he didn't feel sorry about it and neither does it mean it was intentional that he decided to come home right before midnight since he was already late. But above all, it most definitely meant he wasn't in the mood to pick a fight right now. Not when he knows he's broken a promise. And that he's hungry.

"Have you eaten?" He asks first while resting the back of his arm over his eyes, the ceiling lights blaring into them makes him feel uncomfortable but too tired to move from it.

"You think I cannot take care of myself." She folds her arms across her little chest and sulks at him. Sometimes she doesn't know when to quit. Just like him.

"Have you?" But he's not in the mood to repeat himself or be challenged either.

"Argh, of course I have, papi."

At least that made Gabriel smile a little, just hearing her calling him that, "Then c'mere and sit with daddy, baby." Thank Dora the Explorer.

Sighing, she reluctantly drops her arms and climbs onto the worn out couch, crawling right up next to him before he wraps his arm around her and brings her closer into his warmth. And that alone makes her snuggle up to him out of reflex, the sudden awareness of how the day felt lonely without him beside her—from the moment she opened her eyes to just before she was about to fall asleep on the couch waiting for him with the TV left switched on. And even though he told her he's been working all day and is filthy, she couldn't resist burying her hands into his shirt clinging onto him. That adorable gesture made him carry her to his lap instead as she rests her cheek against his broad chest, his other hand running through her long jet black hair.

"I'm sorry, baby. Daddy's had a really long day at work and couldn't come back in time." He cooes softly, combing through her thin strands gently. He's always had a soft spot for her.

"It's fine," she finally admits, voice too much softer now, "I know you're always busy with work and cannot always be around me."

Gabriel sighs, "I gotta make enough money before school starts next semester. We've yet to get you enrolled." It's not easy making ends meet with the kind of work Gabriel does, but it isn't something he wants to bring up in front of her. The last thing he wants his baby girl to know is her father being financially incapable of bringing her up to adulthood, _what a disgrace_.

"I told you I don't wanna go to school!" And there she goes again—doing the same thing again at the sound of school: resisting. She pushes herself away from his chest and furrows her brows, "I'm perfectly fine at home!"

But she isn't the only one with the dipping brows of course, as Gabriel looks at her sternly, "You don't get a say in this. It's either you go to school or I get a sitter in and teach you how to study."

He wasn't the brightest academic student himself. Been down the road, been the delinquent, been the truant, been all that was red in the books and been the worry in the eyes of his mother when she was still alive. He knew he brought upon his own downfall to the path he had walked, the _malo_ , which he then made another detour towards a better life for said decisions made with her, for his baby girl. So despite their poor environment, he at least wants to be able to give her decent education, upbringing at the expense of everything else he needs to sacrifice, had sacrificed. It was the least he could do, to redeem himself from the guilt he felt from the past catching up onto him, to fulfill his duty as a father now.

He may hate people, but at least she's the one he will always love.

"No!" She protests again, "If you have to work like this all the time because of school then I rather not do it!! I mean it!"

"Fareeha." Gabriel rarely addresses her by her actual name.

And that made her silent.

"This is not up for discussion." His response is firm and final, "I will look for either tomorrow. Now go to bed."

Fareeha sulks hard, pouting her face as she slides off from him, stomping her little feet straight back into her room as she slams the door shut, if her tiny strength could even be considered hollering in the first place. Gabriel lets out a sigh—it happened again. Every time they have this discussion, every time it would just end up the same damn way. She is turning six this year, and in actual fact he might believe that she's already behind the public curriculum because of his relocation over the past year. He doesn't want her to fall too far back off even though she's the smartest kid he's known: quick to learn and remember. Better yet, she is his kid after all. Which father wouldn't be proud and want the best for his kid?

He'll need to put her to school as soon as he can. Perhaps engaging someone private to help speed her up to the common level would help things as it is.

Or at least that's what Gabriel thought.

 


	2. Preplanned Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudos and hits everyone! Too sweet everyone :D  
> And I just wanna make Widow nice for once heh

“I can’t believe you made me do this, dad.” Fareeha folds her arms across her chest and sulks in front of her cup of warm cocoa, looking around at students each studying at their individual desks, listening to music, or adults bantering away with other adults in the café. The sulk on her face is pure evidence that she can only be Gabriel’s child—perfect replication.

Gabriel takes another sip of his black coffee and insists, “You’re the one who’s gonna face him or her more hours in a day than me so I suggest you pick a face you like, baby. Don’t make my precious money go to waste on someone you can’t even stand looking at, right?” The smirk on his face traverses so far and wide that he could almost feel his face split in two if he does it any further. Of course all jest aside he does this for the benefit of his daughter, if only she could see it.

Three days ago he enlisted the help of a friend of his, Amélie Lacroix, to post an ad online ‘Looking for private tutor willing to coach a six-year-old for public school enrollment’ which she had generously accepted it—without any additional cause or reason that she usually would have extorted—and instead told him if he continued doubting her, she would post this on craigslist and put his daughter in the hands of a pedophile. To which he responded that he would have had no troubles bashing her fake nose in if she even just as much as think of doing it—which she technically did—but decided to let it slide as long as she get the job done right. For years friends around them had thought they were match made in heaven, tried hard pushing them together with mistletoe adventures 2009, private road trips scandals 2010, happy Fourth of July gatherings 2011, New Years’ eve parties 2012, and the list tumbles on.  However the duo has always been at comfort with either’s presence, despite their passion at the exchange of sarcasm, resonating at a wavelength where no one else intrudes.

“One more word Gabriel Reyes and this reception of yours will be on craigslist in three seconds.”

Gabriel snickers, “You can so try me with that asexual ass of yours. I have no problems concaving your fake ass pretty nose job.”

The same snicker returning on the other side was gold as the one he’s always known, accompanied by fast taping of keys on a keyboard so loud that she could possibly wake an entire neighborhood if she tried. But the thought of her fingers sent chills down Gabriel’s back; her long spidery fingers and nails, the mash of bluish skin and purple nails, sharp and lethal, seductive and coy, were the exact opposites of what he would find attractive in another person.

“At least I have money to fix my concaved nose even if you tried.”

“Money you have can’t buy you a pretty wife even if I tried,” Gabriel laughed aloud as he scrolled through the TV channels, Fareeha had gone down the street to the park where the ice cream truck arrived punctually again, every day.

Her lips curled upwards in a tiny swirl, typing away at the request of her pal before she contested, “How about ‘Looking for a potential boyfriend who can tutor my six-year-old daughter daytime and me after bedtime’? I could even add drop a P.S. for you highlighting that the better her grades are, the more points to score to bed you.”

All she heard immediately after that was his loud groaning, a splay of Spanish cussing and something about now he had to get a cloth to wipe his table because he just spit water out over it and his TV screen. Amélie loves teasing him like this, it’s like a VIP access that no one else really gets close enough to see. The bonus of being the good friend of Gabriel Reyes was like the backstage pass to any Spanish sitcom or soap drama, the man practically made his own series. And quite frankly while it’s all good, she thought now is as good as any time to bring in a new character into his solo acting career, someone else that could help him take care of dear Fareeha because God be damned she knew how hard his life had been up to now.

“You should be fucking glad you’re not in fucking Indiana now. Who knows what else I’m gonna do to you other than break your little face?”

Amélie sighs cynically, finishing up the last bit of the ad, “We both know how much you love my pretty little face but let’s be real, don’t you think it’s time for you to—I don’t know, start over again? Maybe dating?”

Words like dating had long past its due with Gabriel that he found himself unwillingly tense up at the thought of it. He’s got so much work, he’s got mouths to feed, a roof to pay, a car to fix, a good fifteen years of educational costs to worry about, who the hell has time to think about sex? Talk about practicality, he knew just about as many cases he’s heard about people dumping another’s ass because there were kids involved and money problems what not. If he weren’t already the lead actor of his own soap drama, he would’ve shot himself dealing with other people’s dramas or worse yet, dramas forcing themselves on him.

“Dating is for those who have time on their hands and have nowhere else to spend it.”

“No,” a playful thought creeping up her head, “Dating is for those who don’t want to use their hands on somewhere they could on their own and spend time to get someone else to do it for them. Exactly what you need, Gabe.”

Gabriel found himself rolling his eyes at that, “I don’t have time for this, Am.” His voice softened a little more, contemplating the idea that she presented him. He knew she was concerned about his life to the point she had this little epiphany made out loud to him once insisting that _‘having a kid isn’t the end of the world, it’s the cherry on the icing in fact’_.

It was the last time he’d seen her then, back when they both still lived together in L.A., with Fareeha, just little over a year ago, before she was posted to France for work and the rental became too much to bear that he just had to uproot and leave the place. She even cried in her drunken mess state—mascara smearing makeup smudging—falling apart all over the place with grieving thoughts they were going separate ways after they were inseparable for the past nine years since college. And if Gabriel knew anything, he knew this was a woman who didn’t even flinch at _anything_ , not when ex-girlfriend number three tried to kill herself after a breakup, not even when she caught ex-girlfriend number five cheating on her either—not even when said cheater’s boyfriend yelled at her for being _lesbian_ across the lecture hall some one hundred students were in did she twitch a muscle. She even stood up and corrected him, “The politically correct term to label me is asexual. I may have the misrepresentation of being a lesbian only because I date women _for fun_. Men are too much trouble _being stupid_. And it’s just too much trouble to copulate for I live like a black widow—solitarily dangerous and lethal.”

But that didn’t stop Gabriel from punching the lights out of the punk either ways. Amélie had rather enjoyed the show thoroughly too.

Just as much as she enjoyed being the one there for him when he had graduated, when he found his first prospecting job, when he fell in and out of shitty relationships, when his career was at a crossroad, and finally when he had received Fareeha. Little did Gabriel know how much Amélie actually enjoyed spending time with him being the introvert that she is, and it all only came to surface that night when she broke down into the mess she became. That made him appreciate her, treasure her more than he thought he already did, because she was one who loves Fareeha as much as he does.

“It doesn’t have to be now. But…” her voice tender, almost weak filled with care, “…think about it.”

“Am, you know I—”

“Oh and I’ve texted you the link to your ad. I titled it ‘Six-year-old needs a new companion for dad and tutor for school.’”

“You fucking did not.”

Gabriel takes another sip of the black coffee that’s gone cold. He has had five returned calls for the position which he arranged to meet all of them within the day for he has no other days to spare. Plus, he was really running short on time on the case. Double plus he promised to take her to Chuck E. Cheese’s even though he hated the place in order to get Fareeha to agree to the arrangement. Triple plus he still needs to get them both home after all this before nine because God so help him that he has to be at work tomorrow at six in the morning.

“How did you find the first four?”

Fareeha sighs, bearing the look of a trouble teen who seems to be having a difficult time choosing dinner between MCDs, Burger Shack or Denny’s. So _much to choose from for a six-year-old_ , Gabriel thought to himself gloating at the look of his daughter, bemused by her seriousness at his casual question.

“The first one: she talks too much. The second one: tries to impress too much,” Little Fareeha stops here for a moment, musing to herself a little more before she continues, “The third one’s actually okay… she’s cute and friendly but I don’t think you’ll like her, dad. And the fourth one, _….augh._ ”

“Whoa young lady, that’s a little presumptuous to say that I won’t like whoever you like. Daddy likes whoever you choose, …even if it’s gonna take me a while.” Gabriel found his voice tuning down at the second half of the sentence, probably already realizing why his dear daughter would make such an assumption of him. Quite frankly she isn’t wrong either. On a general basis, Gabriel hates a person on a scale of 1 to 10. It takes little effort for him hate someone on a scale of 8 and above, but a lot more for a scale of 5 and below. If he had to hate less, meant he had to behave more amicably on a broader scale, which meant more work, which was something he didn’t know if he could afford at this point. Not to mention he’s never gone below a 5, not even with Amélie, but if his daughter wants it he’d do it.

“Well we have one more right?” She finishes up the last of her third glass of warm cocoa, rubbing her eyes clearly exhausted through all these interviews lest short.

Gabriel looks through his phone messages and sure enough, the last dude is supposed to arrive any time now. “Yes darling, should be here any time and then we can leave yeah?”

“Chuck! E! Cheese!!” Hands raving up in the air she cheers loudly like the innocent child she is and it warms his heart seeing her happy over such a tiny little thing.

“Uhm, Gabriel Reyes?”

But their little conversation is cut short when Gabriel hears another voice interrupting them, and when both he and Fareeha turn to look at their last candidate, he almost forgot to breathe.

High sloped, blonde, stoic looking, the candidate stands before their table as he reaches out a hand at Gabriel, “I’m Jack Morrison.”  
  
“Wow, you’re a catch!”  
  
What the hell did Fareeha just say? Gabriel turns to death stare at his daughter who seems genuinely amazed at his looks. Has she not seen enough TV to gloat at good looking guys that she has to do it in real life looking as though she’s deprived of it? Maybe he should consider giving her better hours of TV then.

“Take a seat, Mr. Morrison.” Out of reflex he quickly intercepts his daughter by pulling her into his arms hopefully that would quiet her down from saying any more embarrassing things.

“Jack is fine,” the blonde speaks with a strong local accent, his posture straight in his seat as he drops his backpack on the floor. “Can I get you another drink?”

Gabriel shakes his hand, rhetorically insisting that his daughter has had enough even though the question was sort of directed at him actually.

“Is it fine if I get one before we start the interview then?”

Again he nods as he waves his hand off at him to haste him to the counter. As soon as he walks away he picks up his phone on the table and texts Amélie immediately, even though it’s probably still dawn in France.

_Houston, we have a problem._

At the same time, Fareeha fights through the death grip of her father’s arm around her as though she’s going through an obstacle course, wriggling out to make her first comment, “He passes the looks test, dad.”

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Next you’re gonna tell me you wanna marry this white ass boy when you grow up.”

“Am not!” She protests, “You said I should get someone I like looking at, at least!”

“What happened to Miss Number Three?” Gabriel grins.

“Miss Number Three has just been eliminated by Mister Number Five!” Fareeha clicks her tongue to imitate a drum roll before mimicking the announcer voice she’s heard from TV whenever Gabriel switches to some sports channel. He chuckles out loud before he pulls his daughter onto his lap and tickles her waist for making him laugh, and she’s all punches and kicks at him wildly in a hysterical laughter.

When Jack returns, he watches the father-daughter combo fighting each other with a look of indifference, not making any unnecessary comments. Gabriel notices him and immediately sits Fareeha back on her seat beside him, clearing up his throat.

There is a brief moment of silence before Gabriel decides that he will start the conversation when suddenly Jack, upon taking a half-a-tall-glass-gulp of his latte, speaks up firmly.

How does Gabriel know he’s firm? Well it’s an old occupational hazard.

“I am not good with kids. In fact I hate kids. I don’t know why I even applied for this but what I know I hated even more was staying in my dad’s land and continue farming like it didn’t bother me. So the day I decided I was going to leave, it was the same day I found your job ad and here I am winging it. I ain’t gonna lie, you will probably find another more decent tutor at this job than me but well—” Jack glances down at Fareeha, “—if little imp here thinks I’m a catch—”

“My name’s Fareeha!” The little one pouts first before her dad even caught her doing so, “Not little imp!!”

Here’s a dude who is clearly south poles from everyone he’s met today up in north pole. The whole overly sweet and friendly façade each and every one of them were putting on compared to his down-to-earth, straightforward personality that Gabriel could only refer to as resembling that of his own. He looks like a no-nonsense kind of guy, speaks like one, and seems to have finally taken action to act like one as well. He appreciates people like that, people who aren’t afraid to offend the world just to be who they are, like him, except these are also the ones who will always be ostracized for the way they are. But this wasn’t his say, it’s his daughter’s.

And, he just called her imp.

Sensing that her father isn’t going to back her up on this one, Fareeha grimaces the way her father always did at hostile strangers and begins bombarding her questions.

“You don’t like children.”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you come here?”

“Because I need to find a job so gotta start somewhere.”

“Do you have a place to stay now?”

“Not a permanent one.”

“Do you think you’re smarter than me?”

“I don’t think I’ll get outsmarted by a kid.”

“How sure are you?”

“Pretty sure.”

“You’ve never been a tutor before though.”

“But I finished college.”

“So?”

“It means whatever you are going to learn in school, I’ve been through it and I can teach it.”

“If you think you’re so smart, why don’t you be a teacher then?”

“Because I told you, I hate kids.”

“Then why don’t you find another job—”

And it came to a point where Gabriel knew he’s got to step in because he knows Fareeha is really good with these never-ending questioning games. He wraps his hand over her mouth to stop her from talking and Jack watches him handling his kid, shaking his head a little, “You don’t have to do that.”

“You’re honest that I give you,” Gabriel acknowledges, “But I thought I was the shittiest dad anyone can have and here we have you.”

“I said I hate kids.” Jack groans, ”But I need a job.”

“And you’re okay with the paycheck I offer?” Despite knowing that he didn’t put up the most attractive offer, he’s glad there were people even turning up for the interview. He couldn’t quite wrap his fingers around this Jack Morrison however. Some parts of him are earnest and Gabriel likes it, but the other half is blunt and unpredictable and it annoys him a little. He’s on his good side as well as bad, and he wonders if his judgment is clouded because he reminds him a little too much of his own self. But if he were just like him, then Fareeha should like him equally as much, perhaps?

Jack nods, “Better than be sitting on nothing. And won’t stop at one job.”

Faintly, that again reminded of Gabriel of the tougher days he’s had when he first came to Indiana. Times were difficult and he was very unsuccessful at most of his job attempts, which was why he eventually gave up and started working on his own terms. He has taken odd jobs since, worked at shittiest hours to slowly build a stable clientele to where he is today, even hired a sidekick whom he should consider firing already for being so reliably useless. No one started easy; deep inside he felt he had a duty to help him.

But it all depends on Fareeha. Maybe Miss Number Three isn’t out of the picture yet.

“So?” Gabriel folds his arms across his chest, “What do you say, baby?”

Jack keeps his silence and waits for some kind of verdict to be passed down by the kid, though a little surprised by the tough look on the father, who knew he’d be such a softie on his daughter?

Little Fareeha taps her empty glass, keeping thoughts to herself as she observes the blonde who looks at her all stern and poised. Something about him exuded qualities similar to her dad that she couldn’t deny, and she just knew that he would probably be the only one out of the five who would never get tired of her never-ending questions, which she is a habitual repeat offender for. The only other person who’s tolerable to it is Aunt Amélie. Even Gabriel would tell her to quit it on days when he’s had enough of it. So for someone who _hates_ kids, this guy has certainly kept his cool well over his head so far.

But what comes next from Fareeha was completely out of expectation. “Hmm… do you like him, papi?”

“Huh?” Gabriel almost chokes on the last of his coffee, trying to play it cool. “It’s your choice, baby. Daddy only hires him if you like him.”

“What about you?” She throws a glance at Jack, “Do you like my dad?”

“He’s a catch.” Jack speaks with a leveled tone that makes Gabriel almost miss what he had just said out. “But I think he’s a hard ass.” And he instantly forgets about it.

“Well, ain’t the pot calling the kettle black?” Gabriel returns the comment.

“We ain’t two peas in a pod.” Jack bites.

“That’s if you hadn’t look at yourself in the mirror, _pendejo_.”

“I don’t even speak Spanish.”

“Then how the hell would you even know that’s Spanish if you don't speak it, _gabacho_?” He then instantly slaps his hand over his forehead, “You know what, I don’t even want to hear your explanation.”

“Uhm, ‘Reyes’? That’s pretty damn clear indication to me.” Jack refuses to be misunderstood for whatever reason.

 _Oh_ , “But calling me hard ass ain’t gonna get you the job.” Which was true, even though Jack is right about him. Gabriel just can’t stand the thought that this white boy clearly can’t tell he was no different from him.

“I came here with only half the expectation that I was going to get it.”

 _Jesus fucking Christ if this son’vabitch don’t stop his comebacks now_ —Her Father is going to unleash hell on Earth and Fareeha could almost see it in his burning eyes that she chuckles. And it is her chuckles that brought him out of his death-threatening thoughts likewise.

“What are you laughing at?” His voice deadpanned.

“Let’s take him, daddy.”

 _What the fuck?_ “Are you serious right now?”

Fareeha nods, very certain of her choice, “You talk to him just like how you’d talk to Aunt Amélie, and you like Aunt Amélie!”

“That’s because he talks _exactly_ in that same infuriating way as her—”

“Precisely my point.” Fareeha grins a little too hard like it's revenge against her dad. “So… Chuck E. Cheese time!!”

“Threatening my chances at the job is probably more infuriating I’d say.”

"Chuck! E! Cheese!! Chuck! E! Cheese!!"

“Will you just quit it, Jack!" Gabriel yells out, not embarrassingly loud that it amplifies all across the cafe but loud enough to draw the attention of everyone within a small radius. To make things worse, Fareeha won't stop grabbing his sleeve nudging him to leave now, whining at him that they are going to be late. So technically he was sort of yelling at Fareeha instead of Jack, but he was the perfect decoy at a time like this, not that it matters to Jack though. He continues sipping his latte, the stoic face making Gabriel even more clueless to what he could be thinking now. Is he really going to take this job like Fareeha asked? But why would he even want to in the first place if he thinks he's a _hard ass_? Crap. _Fucking say something_ , his mind is all over the place. Doesn't help that even Fareeha noticed how similar their bickering is and this is only the first time they've met.

It's until the father-daughter duo readies to leave, Jack finally makes his move as he leans over the table holding Gabriel back, "So when do I start?"

"I'll keep you fucking posted," Gabriel shakes his hand off from his touch, albeit a little taken aback by it.

"Language," Jack backs off and picks up his backpack on the ground. "I'll be waiting, Gabriel."

Fumbling single-handed with his phone, the angry father follows his daughter's lead out of the cafe, scrolling for his previous message to Amélie before he begins furiously typing away on his screen. 

_You better fucking call me back the first thing you wake, Houston._


	3. Not Your Typical First Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooooooolyyyyyyyy shit you guys! The amount of compliments, likes and bookmarks! I really cannot ask for more!! My god, you guys are fuckin' amazing >:D I can spasm.
> 
> Edit: I remove the word 'hispanic' because it was a good point to let me know that it may sound a little too racist (?) and for the love of everything I definitely am **NOT** and it's just that not being native American makes me less aware of such specifications. So I sincerely apologize if I had offended anyone!

“I know you love me but this is seriously getting out of hand, Gabe. This is the fourth time you’ve called this week and we’re not even _close_ getting to the end of the month.”

Amélie turns down the volume of her TV, some crappy French drama she left running because she couldn’t stand working in a complete silent environment ever since she lived with the father-daughter combo. On the contrary, she’s always loved the silence for a good portion in the two decades of her life, but they’ve completely ruined it for her. Now she retains sounds in her living environment and only keeps the death silence before sleep, some sort of ritual she likes to think, all thanks to the Reyes household.

“You wouldn’t fucking believe half the shit this dude is making Fareeha do.”

“Tell him off then. Or better yet, how about FIRE him then?”

Gabriel snorts aggravatingly, “I would if only Fareeha actually LETS me do it. What kinda daughter actually threatens her own dad that she would tell the entire neighborhood that salt is a spice because her dad TOLD HER SO. And it's _not_.”

The attempt she makes to hide her laugh is so poorly hidden that Gabriel felt the burn on his ear, “I _can_ hear you, woman.”

“Oh it was deliberate.” And that just earned her another trophy on the list for being unnecessarily helpful to his disgruntled plight. But of course she didn’t just picked up his call to make light of his situation—even though the past few tries Gabriel passed at her was incredibly pathetic nonetheless, he is still indeed the superestrella of his own drama—she wants to be the listening ear in every instance he needs her to be, not to mention she’s got her own fair share of news she wants him to know. Not only that, there is something about the way Gabriel spoke of this person in a way that amuses her, like he was estranged from the good impression he was first given even though that was merely a good month ago. To clarify her point it wasn’t as though Gabriel even spoke of anything redeeming about this Jack Morrison. It is the fact that he has especially mentioned his insufferable behavior albeit Gabriel all along found everyone insufferable as it is that makes Amélie even more intrigued about this guy.

Jack Morrison, the man who is about to historically break Gabriel Reyes’ scale of hate.

“Just today. Fuck, he made her run laps around the park.”

Okay she definitely didn’t see that one coming, “ _Excusez-moi_?”

“Finally,” Gabriel rolls his eyes on his receiver end, eyes deadpanned at the Spanish sitcom playing on TV after dinner, Fareeha already in bed much earlier than expected because she did, after all, run laps around the damn park under Morrison’s lead.

“‘ _Running helps to heighten her senses, raising her alertness and improve blood circulation so that she can absorb better when we go into studying later. It’s not about the number of hours seated at the desk, but the ability to understand it so by working her body functions to its maximum functionality, we decrease the number of hours stiff-sitting and at the same time have proper interaction and physical training’_ is what he fucking said, Am. Somebody shoot me in the fucking head, _please_.”

It takes every ounce of strength for her to cringe and not burst out in laughter because she knew if she did, Gabriel might really consider taking the next flight direct to Paris just to bash her face in. Obviously what this Jack Morrison said made completely no sense, as derived from the word _nonsense_ itself she quips in her head, but on some hilarious, uncanny, out-of-the-box level of creativity, she couldn’t refute his logic could be possibly, entirely possible unless if proven ridiculous on a wholesome venture by scientific reasoning. Still, Amélie couldn’t help but be astonished how this one guy has completely taken over Gabriel’s life with his extreme ends of intellect or idiocy.

“What—” she holds her stomach tight, rubbing her sore cheeks from the muted laughing, “—what did Fareeha say to that?”

“She fucking loved it obviously!!” His burst of eager exclamation made her flinch from her phone, more muted laughing on her face, “She loves the fact that this guy is so unpredictable and atypical tutor nerd!”

She obviously knew that, it was just a lot more entertaining to hear Gabriel actually getting triggered by something that he should have already seen it coming. Fareeha was never your typical do-as-you're-told kid; she’s one with the brains and smack equivalent to a sixteen-year-old at the age of six.

“Calm the fuck down, Gabe. You’re shrieking like a fucking witch.” Amélie shakes her head before she slouches back into the couch, her laptop over her lap typing away at work, specifically partaking a video conference meeting though she’s shut out her camera and called in malfunctioning. This drama beats anything on her hands right now. “So, what’s driving you so insane about this dude?”

“What.” He finds her patented way of asking absolutely insinuating.

“You know, you can’t seem to talk about anything else ever since you met him.”

Gabriel’s jaw almost dropped to the ground, “I do fucking not.”

“Really?” Her fingernails tap over the sleek surface of her laptop before she stows it onto her coffee table, now sitting up back resting against the couch back, “Let me recant all the instances that has happened.”

“Fuck.”

“Well?” A wicked smirk creeps up her face.

“He’s the problem. Fuck I wish I can get rid of him. Just his face alone _aggravates_ me.”

“Well ain’t that something _new_?”

Gabriel snorts and sighs, “I can't even _scale_ it; fuck, I don’t know what’s it with him that drives me so angry and annoyed just by looking at him or even hearing his voice.”

“Sounds like a hungry man being an angry man.” She could audibly hear Gabriel going ‘what the fuck’ on the end of the line and continues, “Maybe you want something more than just this tutor relationship you have with him as Fareeha’s father but you can’t have it. It starves you, so it drives you mad and angry.”

“What the fuck do you think I even want from him?”

“ _El_ _verga_.” She just looked it up on Google translate.

“Burn in hell, Am.” The phone ends as abruptly as it came. He’s not about half as desperate as to want the _verga_ of a man he hates—fuck that’s not even the point. No.

Gabriel Reyes will not be hungry for whatever it is even if he’s been single for six years.

“And this is how you multiply and divide from this equation, yeah?”

Fareeha looks at her homework eagerly. She fills in the numbers for each equation down a list of ten questions swiftly, all to which Jack gives her the thumbs up for a good work done. She adorns a smugly face at his praises, insisting that she’s the ‘daughter of Gabriel Reyes and she won’t do shame to her father’s name’ and it made Jack sort of nudge her head a little to shove her ego back into her head, seemingly that it has bloated disproportionately like it is with her father. And speaking of the devil, Jack can’t help but wonder, where was the man?

His tuition classes would always start approximately around four in the afternoon and end by seven. It’s the best time to get the kid out to break a sweat he thinks, then back for tuition and to end just before dinner so he’d excuse himself just as Gabriel returns home to his daughter, rightfully returning her to him in some cogent way—even though he isn’t sure when he started to take it upon his own responsibility to take care of Fareeha when Gabriel isn’t in. Fareeha the imp has definitely grown onto him; despite how much he hates kids, she’s really one of its kind. Initially he had thought of her as a child he’d find on any street—loud, rude, embarrassing, squawky, demanding, earful and everything in the descriptive list of an ordinary kid—but she has proven him wrong on more than one occasion. Her ability to differentiate being a kid and the child she _actually_ is more than astounding. He has noticed how she would portray to be different in front of him as compared to how she expresses herself in front of her father. The imp always knew how to be the prized child of Gabriel Reyes, but to her dad she’d always be Fareeha the little brat.

Not to mention she’s intelligent, except Gabriel Reyes exuded less of this redeeming quality that should’ve come from him. Thou shalt not imply that he’s not smart, but Gabriel is a categorized hard worker by nature and Jack simply couldn’t turn a blank eye to his dedication.

Not that he’s always been noticing little blips about the man, no he certainly isn’t.

“Where’s your dad?” He couldn’t help but ask at last, it was already 730.

Fareeha continues to work on the homework at the dining table with him, not seemingly to mind the lateness of her father as she usually would. But Jack isn’t blind to her scrunched up little disappointed face though, she’s just trying really hard not to feel hurt about it, “He’s late. Like always.”

Jack muses, “Always?”

“Yeah, he’s been this late for the past week. Said something about working alone now because he fired his partner.” Her depressed voice makes him wince bitterly for the first time.

Without further hesitation, Jack packs up his tutoring materials and stashes it into the same backpack he had with him. Digging into his pocket for his used car keys, he rubs his hand over Fareeha’s head petting her, making her look at him all surprised and perhaps a little emotional by his gesture before he asks, “Where is he?”

 _Fucking 9pm_ , Gabriel cusses in his head. He’s never going to make it work out by deadline. Why did he fire the good-for-nothing? He could use the good-for-nothing now for even the smallest of work, if only he hadn’t got sick of his bullshit calling out of work whenever he wanted. Technically he was useful on the days he was present, but ratio of his presence to his non was too ridiculous that he had to get rid of him once and for all, then find someone who can be more presently available. But fuck if he didn’t choose the best time for it to happen. Now he’s bulked out with all the latency work because he’s one man down repairing this roof and its lines in the monsoon period like if it’s anything but crazy.

And the winds are strong tonight. Usually he wouldn’t have felt it but to be able to sense the coldness meant only two things—either it was too fucking cold or he’s running the worst, a fucking fever.

He covers the last alignment of the red roof tiles in place and shovels some cement underneath it, making sure they’re aligned straight because he would so hate his masterpiece falling short of perfection. Sometimes he reminds himself all he’s doing is cheap labor, work that no one really gives a shit about its utter completeness other than the fact that it functions as it’s supposed to once he was done with it. That his personal sense of achievement had nothing to do with what he produces, and that he shouldn’t really be bothered even if one of the tiles was 35 degrees off from the lateral equilibrium. Nobody gives a shit.

But Gabriel was a poor sucker for satisfaction. He loves a good reward for a work well done. And he prides himself on that far too much.

“Did somebody tell you it’s 930 already that you need to get home and keep your daughter company?”

Until a certain someone breaks him out of his thoughts and he wasn’t expecting it to be none other than Jack Morrison.

Gabriel slowly climbs down from the rooftop, finding his legs shake a little too much as he steps closer to gravity. _This is not happening_ , he mutters to himself, folding the ladder and hulling it over his shoulder. “How the fuck—what the fuck are you doing here?”

It seems to have become Gabriel’s piloted reaction to naturally cuss at him whenever they speak but Jack has dealt with all kinds of nonsense since the farm. “Making sure you get home to your daughter. I may just be a tutor but even I can tell she really misses you.”

“Yeah?” Gabriel hisses, shoving the ladder to the back of his Cheyenne before going back for his tools on the floor, “Glad to see you’re so involved in my family matters but get your weight off my truck.”

“Why do you have to be such a hard ass anyways?”

His tone is neutral, emotionless, and perhaps even down to the point but Gabriel can’t figure out why he gets so infuriated by it. He isn’t entirely sure if it’s the fact that he’s being called a ‘hard ass’ again for the second time in the month by the same dude or that the fact is he is actually right about him and he hates it when someone is unusually right about him because no one figures him out that _easily_.

“Says the cabron who think he isn’t as well.” Small droplets cascading onto his shirt slowly grows in blotches as the cold wind transcends itself into some sort of short rainfall, or for worse, small rainstorm. A sudden headache seizes his temples tight but he doesn’t let it show.

His obnoxiousness is driving Jack a little up the wall but he keeps it down, “I don’t think I’ve offended you in any way to warrant such a response from you every single damn time.”

“Yeah?” Bending over to pick up the tools on the floor gave him a massive thump in the head that his vision blurred out for a moment and Gabriel struggles hard to regain his sight, though the grogginess has returned stronger than it should. Crap, it’s the worst. It’s _la fiebre_ , and he doesn’t even remember when was the last time he had it. “Why do you care?”

Sometimes Jack wonders if Gabriel really lacks some sort of common sense. How can it _not_ affect him?

“Because it doesn’t get us to a better place if we don’t start talking properly.”

“The fuck are you going on about?” As he approaches his truck, he grabs Jack’s in the shoulder and tries to push him away, “I told you: Get away from my truck.”

If Jack isn’t mistaken, he could feel the heat escaping from Gabriel’s hand on him. It is unusually hot for a crazy weather right now.

“You alright? Are you running a fever?”

“I’m fine. Just fuck off and go home—”

But when Gabriel tries to open his car door, he found himself being rammed against it instead. Jack grabs his shoulder tight as he shoves him up against the vehicle, keeping Gabriel still between his frame and his Cheyenne. The older male stares at him in surprise, gasping through his lips at the sudden turn of events even though he would’ve— _should’ve_ —shoved the cabron back, this time he doesn’t. _Why does it matter_ , he asks himself. But the look on Jack’s face gave it all away so he doesn’t question it.

It’s the first time he actually sees an emotion escaping from that face.

“Get in the car. I’m taking you home.”

It would’ve been perfect if Gabriel knew how to shut his little mouth up and just accept his goodwill but everyone knew that was the hardest thing to do so he doesn’t, “I don’t need your help…”

Yet as soon as his stubbornness protests, he collapses into Jack’s shoulder and falls into silence. Jack props Gabriel into his arms with quick response, holding the man by his torso as he shakes him, “Gabriel?”

The fevered father was out cold, worse than Jack had anticipated. He rests his body against him as he takes the key from Gabriel’s hand, unlocking the door of his Cheyenne and shoving him into the backseat to let him lay down. He finds a dusty old denim jacket on the floor and covers him with it. The rainfall has gathered an alarming crowd of rainclouds and the Indiana farmboy knew they have to bail right now.

“This poor piss fuck…” Jack mutters underneath his breath, unable to shake the feeling of anger and worry.

When Gabriel finally opens his eyes again, the thumping in his head has resided greatly and he felt warm and cozy like he was in the comfort of his own bed—to which he then realizes he is, indeed, in the comfort of his own bed with Fareeha coddled up tightly next to him, her tiny arms wrapped around his waist. He doesn’t remember what happened the night before except for the fact that he had some sort of an argument with Morrison the tutor farmboy; about what he can’t recall, but is glad he isn’t here for now.

He tries to get into a sitting position against the bed rest and that’s when the towel slipped from his forehead and onto his lap; the shuffling then waking Fareeha up, who gets intensely emotional that she immediately jolts up and wraps her arms around Gabriel’s neck, snuggling him tightly.

“Papi!” her voice wavers slightly.

“Hey, hey baby girl… what’s wrong?” his tender voice tries to coo her gently.

“You— you were so sick yesterday! Jack carried you home on his back because he said you fainted outside and I kept calling you and you didn’t respond to me and he put you in bed and told me to get you new clothes and a towel and he helped you changed and he was still all wet from the rain outside and—”

“Baby, baby hang on!” Gabriel tries to slow her down, rubbing his hand down her back comforting her before pulling her back, her eyes all watery while he catches up on the information. “You mean… … _Jack brought me home_?”

Fareeha nods silently and Gabriel knew this isn’t going to go well for him.

 _Well fuck me_ , he mentally curses in his mind. He’s driving the Cheyenne back to the job site because he has to finish the cable linings by today in order to test it out and rectify if any errors by tomorrow. The journey is pleasant, but the interior of his mind isn’t so much of the case.

_“What else happened?”_

_“He took you out of your wet clothes and dried you up before putting the new ones over. He told me to toss the clothes into the washer and come back with some warm water and a towel. He said to take my time.”_

_Gabriel could slap himself for this, “And?”_

_“I found the new towel in the kitchen that you told me before and filled the face bucket with warm water from the tap. When I came back into the room he already tucked you in bed and told me to sleep next to you. He said ‘Daddy is going to be cold all night, you’ll have to be there with him okay?’ Then he put the towel in the water and squeezed it dry before putting it over your forehead._

_“I asked him if you will be okay and he said you will be. Then I told him don’t go… and he said he won’t and will just be sleeping in the living room if I needed him…”_

_Way to go, Gabriel moron Reyes. You made your daughter worried sick and the source of your unpalatable aggression has to be the one comforting her._

_“I… I wouldn’t have known what to do if he weren’t there, daddy…” Her voice was so meek and fragile that it cuts Gabriel right into his heart to have made her so frightened. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and apologized over and over. His voice was so soft and small that even Fareeha knew how apologetic he was, and she had to hold him dearly to remind him that it’s okay, that she’s just happy he’s alright now and that Jack was there for him and her._

Which brought him to present, after leaving a text message to the tutor that he would like to thank him personally for the trouble that he’s brought him since he was no longer found in the living room of his home this morning, and for once trying to drop the whole hard ass image he was credited for. But Jack hasn’t respond, and he can’t help but feel a little annoyed by it still.

However when he arrives at his job site, the familiar silhouette of a certain prick fixing the lines to a satellite dish on the roof caught his attention immediately and he could feel his jaw drop at the whole deal, again.

“The hell are you doing, pendejo?”

Jack is caught off guard by the early presence of a supposedly really ill father, but continued attaching the last of the few lines together in a bundle before he climbs off the rooftop.

“So that’s why my toolbox went missing.”

“I fixed the lines up. It should be running.”

“Where did you get the ladder from?”

“Could’ve climbed up, but the owner had an old one so I made do with it.”

“You… you know how to fix these things?”

Jack snickers, “There’s nothing in my old man’s barn that wasn’t fixed by me.”

When the owner comes out of his house, he gives Jack a hard tap on his shoulder following a thumbs up, complimenting that the TV is working at last and the roof has stopped leaking. He thanks them both for the hard work before paying Gabriel in cash. Jack offers to take the ladder back into his garage for him but the old man said he’d do it, and insists that he’ll definitely send a word of mouth around his neighborhood should anyone need reparation work to go to them. The blonde smiles in return—something that Gabriel has never seen before again therefore isn’t prepared for the skip of his heartbeat when he caught it—before he turns to Gabriel who has quickly swallowed the look on his face up.

 _Crap_ , Gabriel nudges himself, _just get on with it already_.

“There’s an opening to work for me doing these things.” Gabriel tries to sound as nonchalant as he could, “It doesn’t pay too well but enough to feed, hours are flexible so you can show your face around whenever it’s needed.”

Jack stares blankly at Gabriel before he watches him hand him a small wad of cash, “This is for today and for… taking care of me yesterday.”

“I… I didn’t take care of you because of money,” Jack insists, looking away as he scrunches up the cash in his hand, feeling really helpless that he can’t refuse it because he, too, needed money, “It’s just not good if you’re away too much from her and… not taking care of yourself.”

Sighing, Gabriel looks away feeling awkward being told off by his supposedly biggest nemesis, “…I know. So do you want the job?”

“Are you sure you’d be fine being around me?”

Gabriel swallows hard, wondering what made Jack question that, “…look if you don’t want it then just be quick—”

“I’ll take it.”

This is totally so not according to plan; mostly because Gabriel too thought the farmboy would’ve hated his guts as well and rejected his offer. They weren’t exactly the most likeable characters around, but he didn’t think Jack would accept it so easily. Part of him thought he must have taken pity on him, taken pity on Fareeha since he wasn’t the A-role model of a father who can always be around his daughter in times of need. Even if he didn’t like kids, Jack has always appeared as the sort who would spare sympathy for those who needed them. Maybe the Reyes household is just the perfect outlet for it. Maybe they looked like they were begging for some of it though obviously not the case. But even so, why would he care? Gabriel couldn’t fathom past that point; there was no reason for him to care so much for Fareeha. Or him. Or them both. But his daughter was the oddball from him—she’s always been the most likeable one around.

_Just like her mother._

“Do you need a lift?” Gabriel asks as Jack hands him his toolbox. Now he wonders how does this dude commute around, or where does he even stay.

“My car is over there.” It is quite the secondhand piece if Gabriel has to be honest. It looks like it will fall apart any time soon. Matter of minutes actually.

“That needs a serious fix, cabron.”

Jack sighs, “Will have to make do for now. Ain’t got the spare cash for anything else and I live in there.”

That took Gabriel by surprise. So this chico left home without any sort of plan and is now crashbunking in his junk scrap of a car?

“You fucking serious?” Jack rolls his eyes not responding to it. “And I thought I had the shittier deal.”

Not wanting to continue this conversation, Jack walks away and reminds his new double-employer to let him know when the next fix is coming. Judging from the money Gabriel just gave him, he could just make do with ends met until he decided what he truly wanted to do in his life. At least for now, he’s a little more secure, except for the car. It wasn’t as though he had expected Gabriel to say nice things to him, but at least he could be honest and say he is being nice just by offering him this job. It came at a time no better than present, for he just got booted out of his temporary stay and didn’t have quite the amount of cash intended to extend his stay. So it’s just been a few days staying in his own vehicle, minus the night before where he actually had a couch to sleep on for once. He could live with this with temporary fix until he has enough to downpay for a room once again.

And Gabriel knew he didn’t have to do this. It wasn’t in his heart to do this either. But fuck if the words aren’t _crowding_ at the tip of his tongue and he can’t help but let it _spill_ out.

“The couch is yours.”

Four words was enough to make Jack turn around. “What?”

Gabriel scratches the back of his head furiously, “I said the couch is yours.”

“Wait,” Jack couldn’t make out what he’s offering him, because the Gabriel Reyes he knew— _or thought he knew_ —will never do that, “You mean you’re letting me—”

 _Why does this have to be harder than it already is?_ Scowling, Gabriel groans, “I just don’t want to see a news report of you dead in your car because I can’t offer you a fucking couch. And it makes me feel better that at least I ain’t shitting your pay just because I can’t afford it.”

Jack is speechless. _Why is he attracting more attention to himself even though he’d say he’s not?_

“Fuck.” For the first time Jack cusses in front of Gabriel and it makes him smirk.

“Language.”

“You don’t fucking get to say that,” Jack must have misplaced his discipline somewhere because he can’t stop the words escaping.

“Well?” Gabriel asks again, still smirking, “I have another job next Monday. I don’t think your scrap pile will make it.”

Still sort of clueless at what to say, Jack simply nods looking down. He doesn’t know how to respond to Gabriel’s kindness, even though he knew any compliment coming from him would get shot down like a bird in a flash. Not only did he found another job to meet his ends, now he actually has a place to sleep in as well. All in one day. All in one moment with Gabriel Reyes.

All because this guy gave him a heart attack last night for almost _dying_ on him.

“One condition for staying with us though.” And it sounds perfectly logical to Jack to have this because otherwise it’d have been too easy. Being easy with Gabriel Reyes is implausible and beyond imagination.

“What is it?” Perhaps something stupid, something difficult. Something that Gabriel can take it out on him because he hates his guts so much. He doesn’t know, but he keeps on guessing—maybe a stupid gag, maybe something to embarrass him, maybe something to make him say no to this whole deal. Maybe he’d make him cook or some shit like that, because Jack knew his cooking could kill a roadside rat, _just sayin’_. Maybe—

“Stop making Fareeha run around the park. Your theory is fucking whack.”

 _This is the worst_ , Jack tells himself, “Fuck, Gabriel.”


	4. Unintentional Dating Concerns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I cannot title for shits.... lol.........  
> BUT thank you everyone for the kudos, hits and comments again!! >:3 you guys are so wonderful and precious and again I'm REALLY glad everyone is enjoying this! :DD

If there is one thing Jack Morrison learnt about staying with the Reyes is that every day is filled with some sort of drama like they’re on National TV. It was nothing compared to what he had experienced since he was a child, then growing into a teenager, adolescent and finally the adult he became before he bolted out the door. But the phases were uninterrupted, mostly mundane routed, ghastly coordinated, vaguely mandatory played, like gears in a clockwork and they were the components just doing their work. Jack wasn’t the only son, but being the eldest gave him the unprecedented privilege of making sure that all the parts were functioning as they were supposed to. He has a loving mother, a real Southern farmer for a father, and two other siblings who were less than delight with him as their older brother. He could say that his efforts put in over the last 25 years were solely done for his mother because only she knew it wasn’t mandatory, it was dedication.

His siblings were the firsts to get out of their barn. It wasn’t by choice he stayed, he merely had to. Upon finishing college he had made the decision to roll with the military. He had lived his life coordinated, disciplined, determined and focused and unexpectedly celibate for most of his twenty years—it was the best choice. But of course no one was onboard lest to say, and it was on the circumstances that his younger brother would work in the barn to replace him that he was allowed to go. Lest did Jack realize that Morrison the Younger had only accepted it because he was buying into good books of his father for a later plan to study away. He knew the biasness always existed, he just turned a blank eye at it.

4 years into the military and one day he was called out. His father told him his younger brother needed to be away for college in Boston and he had to come back to help him because he was of growing old age. Jack had known this day would come soon, which meant he had prepared himself time and time again that he would not budge and give into it, that he had finally found his way out of his barn life and there was no way he was going to go back into it—

“Eggs!”

Jack then stirs back to the reality he’s suspended in currently—a spatula, overly-heated fry pan and severely splattering eggs.

Fareeha quickly turns off the stove, watching her eggs go from brown to black shrouded in black smoke like as if the Grim Reaper came by and gave it a death sentence. On the contrary to that belief, she knew who the real Reaper would’ve been if he sees this masterpiece of a disaster sitting in his own kitchen. Hurriedly she ushers Jack out of the kitchen, shoving him away from the crime scene because she knew she had to get rid of the evidence before her dad shows up, displeased. She grabs the trash bag and empties the burnt eggs into it, kicking it across the floor back to where it originally was before she brings the pan and spatula to the kitchen sink. There she fills up a wide container with water and liquid soap, making sure the lemony foam covers the top before throwing the pan and spatula into it.

Smart kid, Jack watches in amusement as if he doesn’t realize he was the one who triggered this series of action.

“Who burnt the eggs?” Then came a voice from down the hallway drawing Jack’s attention.

“I—”

“No one did, dad!” The little girl runs out so fast to cover up what Jack is about to say, nudging him hard into his waist if he hasn’t caught the hint with what she’s done for him.

Staying with Jack makes her realize the certain few traits that her tutor possesses which were incredulously insane. Starting first of as presented, the man lacks complete tact. He’s a little too straightforward and honest, which makes it hard for him to bend rules and conform to certain behaviors. One of the recent endeavors that exuded the perfect example of this is when her father and him had a quarrel over certain materials that should be used for a project they were working together.

_“Red roof tiles don’t work, chico.”_

_“The red roof tiles have better endurance against heat, weather better against expansion and contraction and is a lot more cost effective.”_

_“Yeah you got the scientific facts down right hombre but guess what? The client’s roof is black.”_

_“We could get the red ones and spray it down black. We should be providing expertise with our skill set, not blindly doing what they ask us of.”_

_“Acrylic dry paint ain’t gonna work. Just go get the damned black roof tiles by the store—”_

_“Gabriel.”_

_“Jack.”_

_“Don’t make me do it.”_

_“Oh hell no cabron, you gonna do what I tell you to ‘cos that’s how this relationship works—I’m your boss and you listen to me.”_

But she won’t lie about it like her father would since this is probably one of his strongest redeeming qualities. Knowing the fact that her father agreed to let him crash on their couch makes her really happy, because it’s not an everyday done deal to have Gabriel compromise his living space with another human species—if he hasn’t lived to kill it first yet.

“Baby,” the smirk plastered across Gabriel is enough to send chills down her back, “If you want to hide something like the smell of burnt eggs remember to open up the kitchen window, _sí_?”

Fareeha closes her eyes and slaps her forehead.

“And you,” Gabriel walks up to Jack and pokes his index finger into his chest, grimacing, “Chacho can fix everything but can’t cook a damn egg?”

Jack stands firm and looks at Gabriel unwavering, “I told you I can’t cook for shit.”

“Jack is getting better, dad!”

Gabriel snorts, “He’s getting better at destroying my kitchen for sure, darling.”

“I think if I wanted it destroyed I would’ve done it during the first week.”

“ _Ay dios mio_ , Jack!” Fareeha shoves at him again, “I think that’s enough between you and dad!”

“You wouldn’t dare even if I asked you to.”

“We’ve been through this many times over, Gabriel. I sport a good dare.” And finally Jack pushes Gabriel’s finger away from him, “And have I not delivered?”

And that makes Gabriel hiss, “ _Tch_ , get him away from my kitchen, baby. I’ll set breakfast right.”

And this here, right here, is the best bargain living with the Reyes if Jack must admit—Gabriel is a tough son of a gun who happens to be the best cook he’s ever come across. Not that he has come across many, but his cooking is quite the story. It’s probably the biggest reason why he would never take cooking seriously no matter how hard Fareeha tries. So he isn’t as vertically dense as a pole that Fareeha makes him out to be perhaps. Besides he’s had enough death threats from Gabriel to know that the kitchen was his property, that he should think twice about wrecking shit up.

So there he sits by the dining table. The dining table is perhaps his favorite piece of furniture in this entire house, probably because he does almost everything there, eating and tutoring claiming first two spots. It’s more of a practicality conclusion drawn from it until Fareeha told him that Gabriel was the one who built it from scratch one fine summer years back. It was simple, sturdy and lasting, much like the person Gabriel is lacking the glamorous fancy stuff. In fact most of the furniture in this house were exactly like that and Jack has to hold back his curiosity wondering if they were crafted by the same man too.

Sleeping on the couch hasn’t been difficult. Jack has been through _worse_. The only thing about it is that it’s a little shorter than a standard couch for it’s a two-seater, which meant that his 6’1 is not the most helpful in this scenario. But he got used to it, curling up to himself mostly to fit the frame. Gabriel has gone out of his way to get him a couple of fresh pillows and duvet for comfort, loudly insisted that Fareeha was the one who made him do it because he wouldn’t care if he died on his couch in the first place.

_“Funny coming from the guy who offered me his couch because he was afraid I died in my shit piece of a car.”_

_“... ... shut the hell up, Jack.”_

“And this is how you _actually_ cook a goddamn egg.”

The amusing part about that sentence is that Gabriel actually plated and brought it to Jack instead of having his ass come into the kitchen to pick it up on his own. Sometimes Jack wonders if Gabriel even realizes the little things he does that goes against his code of honor.

“Language.” And he can’t quite help tease about it.

Gabriel growls at him, making Fareeha chuckle as she contests, “It’s okay! I actually know how my dad speaks outside of my presence. He’s pretty known for his badass attitude and prickly mouth.”

“I bet you didn’t know this blonde shit cusses too despite his high and mighty act.”

“Dad!” And Gabriel slaps his forehead regretfully, followed suit by Jack sighing at him in disbelief.

“I see this is the extent of your self control, Gabriel.”

“Zip it, homeboy.” And he has no idea why he even slip up in the first place, which in reality, is a recurring case ever since homeboy moved in with them.

Everyday breakfast selection is simple: eggs, wieners, bacons, turkey ham, white bread toasts, sometimes bollos sometimes pancakes—and Gabriel insists on his own batter because _‘the shit from Walmart ain’t worth the time they spent to torture themselves with it’_. Sometimes he would make tacos if there were leftovers, but they’d taste nothing of that sort. Part of Jack envies how Gabriel is dedicated to what Fareeha actually eats on a daily basis, making sure she eats something good and homely, and even if they were leftovers from the night before he’d make sure they come out fresher the next day than just out of a microwave. It was something he never had since he was a child—not about food not being homemade but rather the dedication behind it—even though at one glance anyone would have reckoned that he came from the richer family background, he felt starved from the attention nonetheless.

But homemade omelette and pancakes, wieners and a cup of fresh coffee—Jack could live like this.

“You tutoring Fareeha today?”

Gabriel sits by the dining table restocking his toolbox, cleaning his tools since he gets the day off until rest of the week. Fareeha is happily watching Dora the Explorer on TV yet again after breakfast, scrunching herself up in Jack’s duvet even though Gabriel told her not to do it, the tutor didn’t mind it.

“No, she gets the day off today like us.” Jack offers to help clean the tools as well but got rejected and is sent to unpack the new restocks Gabriel bought the night before.

It’s been about three weeks or so since Jack moved in and if anything, Gabriel has started to get accustomed to this lifestyle of them three under one household. It’s not the best idea to begin with, but if you can’t beat them you’d have to join them. Plus, Fareeha really likes Jack—he’s not that blind—and the farmboy has really helped him ever since they started working together, not including the fact that he’s also her tutor, not excluding the fact that he did take care of his daughter when he passed out that one night. It put things into perspective, whether he liked it or not. Jack’s existence couldn’t have come at a better time he told himself, and the best part was he didn’t even have to force himself to like the guy.

...and that came off awkwardly delightful in Gabriel’s defense.

“Good.” Gabriel speaks monotonously, dabbing the cotton cloth into a bowl of water mixed with thinner to clean his tools, “Let’s start working on your car today.”

The struggle with the cardboard packaging might have been a little too real for Jack so when he finally caught on what Gabriel suggested to him, his overly exerted force ripped the back-packaging of a ten-pack screw and decimated it across the table which made Gabriel turn to stare at him, expecting some sort of an explanation for the loud reaction. He wasn’t expecting a fix on his car, not unless Gabriel mentioned it before and he completely missed it. Yet Gabriel is great at being stealthy by himself, like who could’ve known he was such a great cook behind doors? Most would think he’d trash out at a taco joint everyday feeding his daughter fast food—not that Jack was stereotyping him. It’s just... cooking and Gabriel Reyes sounded like an impossible combination. But he was wrong, wasn’t he?

Just like how he offered his couch and two jobs at him. And now his car?

Jack could possibly be looking at the most wanted bachelor of the decade if he knew otherwise.

“Wait, my car?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Unless you want to keep driving that scrap for all of eternity. But if you even come close to using it for a bad excuse for anything, I’ll have your head stuck in its boot.”

But his threat barely came across as a whisper to Jack if he was trying his damnedest, “Do you have to always threaten something to cover up for every good thing you try to do?”

“I’m offering it for my own benefit.”

And that make Jack grins at how much in denial he is, his voice lower into a whisper, “Bullshit.”

Which took away the hard shell of Gabriel Reyes and made him snicker, “I believe that’s _inappropriate_ coming from you, señor preceptor.”

So out into the garage they spent the afternoon working on Jack’s car and the tutor cannot even begin to wonder when did Gabriel got half the things he had for his car when they practically lived together. It could’ve been the late night groceries—random ten in the night trips to the nearest Walmart to get stuff for breakfast and all, but that couldn’t have gotten him brand new sets of tyres for the vehicle. Not to mention the gallons of primer, automotive paint and lacquer for a new paint job, or the stack of sandpaper to strip his current washed out bad color on his car. To think that Gabriel had all this prepared for him, he didn’t know what he could do for him to repay such debt.

But of course a compliment was out of the—

“I think I deserve a compliment for being such a boss of the year.”

Scratch that, Jack told himself. Gabriel is a lot harder to guess than he thought he’d be.

“When did you even get half the stuff that’s here?” Jack asks bewildered, looking at the tubs of paint. “What color did you get?”

“Red.” The look on Gabriel’s face dead serious.

“Seriously?” Even though he had no right to complain about it, but fucking hell _red_...

Gabriel smirks, “ _Nada. Azul, pendejo._ ”

“What?”

“Blue, you idiot.” Gabriel pries open one of the cans and it comes out as a strong royal blue, “Didn’t take you for a red person.”

And Jack almost felt his heart beat faster for a moment when Gabriel looks at him with such mirth. The look on Gabriel’s face was his way of telling Jack that he knew him better than he thought he did and well—he wasn’t wrong about that. However whether if he was a fan of being read was a whole different story. Jack knew how it was like to be read. Manipulation, exploitation, they basically worked hand in hand. And it didn’t help that he never did adopt the methodology to protect himself. He’s just and impartial, likes playing fair for most of his games. But the world couldn’t agree with him on a professional level now, could it?

But Gabriel.

“Are you gonna sand this shit down or what? Waiting for a royal invitation?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you could be polite about it.”

“Ain’t got time for playing dukes and princes. I’m a labourer and I don’t play by the rules.”

Gabriel could be different.

And this difference wouldn't impact a thing.  

The chemistry between Gabriel and Jack is impeccable. Gabriel would beg to differ twice if he could but the compliments coming to him about how wonderful Jack is and how he finally managed to find someone as hardworking as him is mind-baffling. He could try to whip up a couple of excuses to insist that Jack isn’t as perfect as the people think, but it wasn’t his style to play dirty. Correct that: he _does_ like the nitty gritty feeling of getting down to dirty business, but it’s fair business. And he’s all about fairness—pay and be rewarded type of deal.

So when the teenage girl actually came up to Jack to exchange her numbers with him, he was totally _not_ surprised. _Not surprised at all_.

It just so happens—and don’t they always happen—that the old woman who called for his service stepped out of the house for a day out with her friends, leaving her only daughter behind waiting for two scruffy dudes to come in and fix the electrical extensions from their living room to her room because she be damned wanting a wired connection directly from her telephone point. Like a perfect setup that could potentially ruin his name if he just made one wrong move, or if the girl decides that it was fun to mess with him. Gabriel wasn’t the sort to pick up business like this, but fuck if he didn’t catch the ball this time.

Jack on the other hand however, seemed absolutely calm about the whole scenario, probably because farmboy hasn’t had his fair share of being played by the goddamn world or something. He didn’t like how this was playing out, so he does think that perhaps it would be better if—fucking hell those pants she’s wearing has got to be illegal.

They imbue the cords along the corners of the wall and cornices, tucking it behind the acrylic casing that matches the color of their wall as they cement it down. It’s easy work, easy money, but darling dearest didn’t come easy.

“Say, how old are you?”

Jack doesn’t look up from his work, “Thirty.”

“How about you?” And Gabriel just knows chica here is asking out of courtesy and good books into Jack’s pants.

“Does it matter?” Gabriel hisses.

“Well can’t hurt ya, right?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your—”

“I want to know too.”

Well that can’t be real, can it? It’s just so like Jack the farmboy to play right into the girl’s hands, Gabriel shakes his head as he fills in the cement into the gaps. “... ...Thirty-two.”

Jack seems to cock an eye at him and it made him feel a little frustrated. What the fuck is wrong with being thirty-two?

“I do have a child if you don’t realize.”

“Right.” Jack leers at him from the corner of his eye.

“I’m nineteen and legal!”

 _Oh god_ , don’t even get him started on this girl who’s barely grown her woman curves yet.

“You know what, chica, just can it. We’ll be out of here in no time if you just let us do what we came here to do.”

She makes a pouting face at Gabriel and all he can think of is he hopes Fareeha will never grow up like that. Girls these days... what the hell are they thinking? Hitting on guys who are old enough to be her brother or even father openly and expecting some sort of return invitation or something? Call him old-fashioned or maybe the past six years have molded him into the sort of father who at least hopes that his daughter would have some decency as she grows up instead of batting her lashes at strangers with decent faces. Well at least get to know the guy before batting at anything sounds more logical than anything, ain’t it? Gabriel is not the least on board with this idea even if the world has spun in this direction mistakably.

“But I’m more interested in handsome blondie here, do you mind?”

The sheer attempt made Gabriel snicker, suddenly secretly gloating to see how farmboy is going to handle this, “Oh not at all, be my guest.” It _is_ a good way of getting to know his own worker without having to ask, is it? Not that it's impolite to just ask, but Gabriel being Gabriel, let’s just say it’s better off if it comes from someone else than his own foul mouth.

“So are you seeing anyone now, handsome?”

Jack continues working on the lines, now that they’re on the second level in her room. Gabriel keeps the door open as he cements the acrylic tightly, making sure the three of them are kept in the open and away from each other. His concerns go far and wide, presumptuous even—it comes with history. Plus he didn’t want his only decent worker be tainted with anything unnecessary, offering any unwanted potentiality of losing his job permanently. So he was just doing him a favor watching out for him. Like a boss should. Nothing special, nothing personal.

“No.”

“When was the last time you dated?”

Despite the questions, Jack continues working on his job on hand. It's not the first time he's being hit on like this. It's actually not difficult to deal with than imagined. But like ants crawling underneath his skin, he felt Gabriel the same, like he was trying to get under his skin testing him out. Not sure what he would benefit out of it so Jack left him be. It was always easier to pretend looking dense all scenarios considered. He pries open the telephone point to stuff the cables into the dry wall, making sure the points are connected. The only reason he answers her questions is because it would make this a lot easier than it is. Being too secretive would invite more trouble than it should, something that he’d like to think Gabriel fail to realize with his attempt.

“4 years ago.”

 _Oh so farmboy has had his share of romance,_ Gabriel thought to himself.

“Why didn’t it work out?”

His hands are working a lot faster now. He turns to Gabriel’s work and looks like he's done with the sealing. All that’s left is to make sure that the lines are connected to the electrical point which he’ll seal and affix what he’d pried off earlier and they’re done. Well he wants to get it done mostly because he’s well aware that his boss really doesn't like this chick; the older male made it clear as day. He wouldn’t want to simply annoy the hell out of him by making the day any longer now, would he? Not with the meals he enjoys everyday threatened on the line should Gabriel ever find out. Reason why he'd put up with Gabriel's nonsense, even if they're mostly harmless anyways.

“No reason. Just didn’t.”

“Did she find someone better?”

Yet at this point, even Gabriel starts to think it’s a little too much privacy for Jack to continue spill it out like it was mandatory for his job. “Maybe you wanna step back a little—”

“Never said _‘she’_. And that’ll be 180 bucks for privy trespassing, little girl.”

 _'Privy trespassing' he said, even though he willingly told her_ —Gabriel couldn't quite get that off his mind.

On the journey back on the car, the awkward silence ensues ever since they left the place. First of all, Gabriel had no idea that Jack was into guys. Second of all, he didn’t know what he's supposed to think now that he found out he is. Last of all, he might have really cornered himself giving him all these opportunities to be in each other’s presence. It’s been six years since he’s been in the company of someone as much as his daughter and he’s rusty, his senses are dull and by God he swore how the fuck did he not realize this again? Not that it changes anything, but …… _fuck_.

“Did it surprise you?” The silence was killing them so quietly that Jack knew he had to ask something to break it. He rather takes some form of insult to his face from Gabriel than try to watch the man pretending like nothing has changed.

“What?” And Gabriel tries his hardest to be as deadpanned as he always is.

“That I prefer men.”

“No.”

Jack cocks his eye at Gabriel, “Really?” Unbelievable.

Gabriel returns the favor, “Really.”

“Even though I once said you’re hot?”

And his one-liner took Gabriel aback making him sputter aggressively, “When the fuck did you even say that?”

Musing, Jack reminds him, “The interview.”

Perhaps it was something long forgotten or deeply suppressed in Gabriel’s mind but with Jack bringing it up, he vaguely remembers something of the sort happening but had genuinely passed it for a joke, a flustering sick joke of the least.

Yet the fact that Jack actually remembers that he said something like this before, makes Gabriel wonder if it was really as flustering or as casual as he thought in the first place. The real question here is why did Jack even remind him of what he said to him in the first place? As the silence returns along with its awkwardness, the air between them shifts involuntarily. Jack is probably still waiting for him to say something demeaning while Gabriel fights to find something less expressive to say. It’s not that he has something against Jack— _Amélie would so know better_ —but it wasn’t something he wanted Jack or anyone else to know for the matter, not when he has Fareeha, not when he has to continue protecting her. So perhaps going with an insult could've been the best bet, but he can’t lie that this discovery isn't making things difficult for him, not with the things Jack is ambushing him with.

“Well if you’re uncomfortable I can move out, as soon as you give me my next paycheck.” He gives a small grin to assure Gabriel that he’s not offended by his reaction if he had one.

“I’m not offended, pendejo.” Gabriel sighs, “You’re good influence on Fareeha, even if you’re into men or what.”

Gabriel’s kind compliment may have seemed a little obligatory of him to say so. Probably it was due to the fact that Gabriel has his eyes looked down, his lips sighing, making it a tad difficult to believe that he was genuinely okay about it. Yet the slight fidgeting, how Gabriel’s breathing shallows and deepens as the silence plummeted between them again, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel of his Cheyenne, …they couldn’t have been signs of disapproval. His nervous breathing, his words faltering, even the slightest lip chewing… almost seemed like the older male heard something he wasn't expecting but could've been secretly contended for knowing now.

Jack knows better, even if he doesn’t say it. He was _dense_ after all, wasn't he?

“If you say so.”

So he doesn’t push it. Instead he closes his eyes as he leans back into the passenger seat, paying close attention to Gabriel’s breathing humming with the soft rumble of the engine running through his ears as he falls into a quick slumber.


	5. Family Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I came back a little to write something back up again.  
> Hello everyone again :)
> 
> Not much comedy this time, but I think it should be addressed!

He’s never seen his car in better condition than it is right now. After spending the past few weeks tinkling with the mess he left his car in for months, the results came back polished and positive. Just a few more changes and it will be rolling as new as the first time. The best part? They saved a fortune doing it on their own—money is, after all, the utmost priority in the Reyes’ household. Jack would’ve never guessed Gabriel is such a grease monkey himself; the man fixes any and everything himself. What Jack did most was just obeying the orders Gabriel gave him; tightening bolts and nuts, spray-painting the new coat of cerulean he was told to, and any other menial demands called upon. The hours were long but they weren’t difficult, yet it made sense now why those maintenance guys down the street were charging an arm and a leg for their services—shit ain’t made of gold but time can’t rewind either.

Odds are, they really can’t afford to ask those guys to revive the piece of scrap he’s been calling a car for the past few months since he left home. Most likely Gabriel didn’t want to waste the effort explaining that this wasn’t his car but still getting wasted by the Latinos owning the shop because he hated asking for favors. Or perhaps it was just awkward in general having to explain this relationship of theirs, which could potentially lead to having any one else know that they’re living together.

…to which sworn by Jack’s incredulous disbelief, that no one seemed to notice his existence in the neighborhood. There hasn’t been a day that went by without someone asking if he was new to the ghetto neighborhood. Maybe it’s the blond in his hair or something… he can’t wrap his fingers around it.

“Am I really such an unwarranted sight in the neighborhood?”

“…what is un-war-ran-ted?” Sitting on the working bench is Fareeha enjoying her strawberry ice cream, watching Jack sliding out from under his car as he questions aloud.

Jack sits up from the creeper, smearing the grim on his tank top as he wipes his hands on it, then too with the back of his arm across his forehead, sweat and dirt stretching across his skin. This summer heat is getting to him; he too, could use an ice cream to cool it off.

“Like I’m someone don’t need to be seen by others around here.” And shamelessly, he did so—so naturally—swiping the ice cream off Fareeha’s hand catching the little one off guard, chomping off the corner of her treat.

“HEY!!” Fareeha exclaims disgustingly, “that’s MINE.”

“Didn’t your dad teach you to share?” Jack continues loping the other corner off, his free hand holding Fareeha’s vehement attacks off as she wallops his thighs with what Jack would call it, baby strength.

“Jack!! Give it back!”

But two bites was all he wanted so he returns it to her, earning another pout from the little girl who seem to mind that he ate her ice cream, yet just seemingly happy enough that he returned it to her to finish up the remaining nonetheless.

“So, am I unwarranted?”

Eyes rolling up towards the ceiling, the happy little girl recalls what Jack explain earlier about the word before she makes her answer, “…uh… no. I don’t think so. I think people here are just not used to seeing a white guy strolling up and down the street like he’s from here.”

Baffled, Jack contests, “But I do live here, for now anyways.”

Fareeha shakes her head, “Honestly I don’t know. That’s what papi tells me anyways.”

Now bewildered, the blonde rises his doubts further, “He said what about me?”

“Papi says to watch over you.” Taking her last bite, she throws the ice cream stick towards the bin across the garage and scores it, squealing a loud yes with her right fist bump into the air. “I don’t really know what he means but he says people might pick on you.”

“So his solution is to… have you watch over me so we can avoid people picking on me?”

“No,” and she points her finger at him, “He asked me to watch over ‘YOU’ in case you beat someone up.”

Caught off guard, Jack lets out a stiff chuckle upon hearing that, not realizing Gabriel has somehow figured out that side of him. He reaches for the semi dirty towel on the bench to clean his hands, making sure to get the spaces between his nails and finger before going for his face. Fareeha watches in disagreement, pointing at the shabby shelf Gabriel picked up from a disposal center months ago where fresh towels sat neatly folded. He doesn’t remember those were there before—he swears upon it, and in all honesty believed that Gabriel couldn’t have done that either.

“Use those you dirty _gringo_!” And she snatches the dirty rag away from him, “I put those there this morning!”

To say the Reyes’ household worked like clockwork is probably the most befitting description for them. It never ceased to amaze him how Fareeha, only 6 years of age, fits into all the missing pieces that Gabriel lacks in his life. She’s his main gear, the one who keeps him going and at the same time keeping all the smaller details dandy and working all in one place. Jack has never met another child as sensible and mature as little Fareeha is, neither has he ever imagined being able to stick with one for as long as he did and genuinely liked the kid for who she is. She is destined for greatness one would imagine and Jack doesn’t shy from the same idea.

Likewise could be said for the man who raised her singlehandedly, though Jack wouldn’t put it past him that he has curiosity about the woman who’s supposed to have conceived this wonderful child.

Yet unable to hide the smile on his face, Jack resorts to ruffling his fingers through her hair instead, earning a loud gasp of disgust from Fareeha as she whines, “Ughhh your hand, Jack!!!”

“I’ll buy you another ice cream. You earned it.”

Almost instantaneously her eyes gleam like the dilated pupils of a cat, her grin widening out that of a cheshire for she hops off the bench, gripping onto Jack’s wrists. She beams at him with such pure innocence that it reminded him how much of a child she still is to be shouldering the weight of life she connects with her father. Life has been too harsh for them.

“Strawberry??” So harsh that even mere ice cream could fit her spirits up so easily.

Jack heaves a deep sigh following his neutral voice, “Why only strawberry?”

“Because I don’t like chocolate and papi says vanilla is for _boys_.”

“ _What the heck is that even supposed to mean?!_ ” His thoughts flew straight out of his mouth before he even realizes it.

Fareeha raises her hand in defeat shaking her head, “I don’t know. Ask papi. Now, I want ice cream!”

 _What the heck is vanilla is for boys?!_ Jack can’t contain his curiosity over that comment. Did Gabriel really said something presumptuously horrifically inappropriately rated to his _own_ daughter? The word ‘vanilla’ has had _too_ many definitions in various scenario to be used in an innocent manner as Fareeha just did. Especially if it came from the one Gabriel Reyes he knows of, that vile and crude creature of abysmal hate.

The angry bastard who cusses at anyone because he hated people in general.

The stoic dude who didn’t give a damn when the young girl tried to befriend them.

The silent dad who not once flinched at the open confession when he told him he was into men.

“The strawberry one, Jack! ICE CREEEEAAAAMMM!”

And the peculiar thought had him so occupied that he didn’t realize he was already out and down the street with Fareeha in the dirt grease he covered himself in, standing in front of the ice cream truck with her hand in his shaking it, shaking him out of his thoughts. So quickly he pulled out the change in his pocket, shuffling for two bucks to get her the strawberry ice cream and awkwardly, _vanilla_ for himself.

Not because of Gabriel Reyes’ dumbass equation of course, not some whack shit he made up.

His silence however didn’t bother Fareeha one bit; the little girl was just excited to have two ice cream in a day. She gets carried away in her own happiness and is all that matters to her. Jack needed her to be like that, like the child she is, to be the child she deserves to be. For he knows what it’s like to be a child without a decent childhood memory of fun and joy, and the empty yearning to have it even after growing out of being a child. It’s a once in a lifetime moment; everyone only gets to be a child once truly in their lives and no matter how difficult livelihood and the odds may be, there’s always time to be a child that you are when you are one.

Looking at the girl holding his hand again, he lets her take him to the distant pavilion along the strolling path in the park. The sky is still bright even though it’s the evening already, the summer breeze gently cruising through the pavilion cooling the heat even just for a little. In an hour’s time Gabriel would be home, he promised his baby that he would make her favorite chicken wings tonight.

“Don’t tell him I bought you another one.” Jack was then reminded of the severity if Gabriel ever knew what he did.

Fareeha giggles and nods, “Oooookaaaay! Today’s the best!” She grins so hard licking the melted ice cream goo dripping down the sides, “I get two ice creams and then chicken wings tonight!”

Jack smiles to himself. Admittedly pronounced too, _I love this kid._

“You gonna love papi’s chicken wings, Jack! He fries it and then covers it in this sweet and spicy sauce all over and it’s soooooooo amazing and I always have to wait for a loooooong time before I can eat them again!”

_She’s a kid I can probably live with for a long time. The only one, perhaps._

“And then he makes this long crispy fried stuff called churros too! We eat them in cinnamon icing and they are soooooo the best!!”

_But kid’s got to have a mom somewhere._

It’s a deep hollow voice in his mind echoing. He doesn’t know where it comes from but it’s not the first time he’s had thoughts about it. As of late these voices have been growing, perhaps because rationality forbids him from thinking otherwise. The simple logic that Fareeha must have a mother isn’t a first he’s thought of. Neither is the fact that he has been wanting to ask Gabriel about it is a second. But facing the truth meant many other things that come as a result of it, things that someone as young as Fareeha would not think about, nor would she even think of it as a possibility in the first place.

One of those would be his place in the household.

Jack isn’t a part of their _family_ , he knew that much.

“I hope papi buys those pink lemonadey thingy!! He adds more lemon and soda in them and they taste soooooo—”

“Hey.”

And despite how excited she is, his solemn tone cuts everything through and halts it all to a stop. She looks up at the blonde sitting across her, surprised by his voice perhaps, “Mm-hmm? Are you okay, Jack?”

Then it happens. He didn’t know why he did it.

“Have you… ever wonder where your mother is?”

 _This is a mistake._ He immediately knew it is as soon as those words fly but he was too late. Yet particularly more than regret, his curiosity burns stronger now and he wants to let it stay lit for as long as he can…before he knows it needs to be extinguished to find out what’s in the bag.

The question wasn’t unforeseen but Fareeha didn’t think it was going to happen now. She knows how many times she’s asked her dad about it to only be shot down time and time again. With each rejection her curiosity heightens a little more—but with each time she knows she breaks her father’s heart a little more when she asks about it more and more. It wasn’t because she isn’t contended with just having her dearest dad, it was just a natural curiosity. She’s wondered how her mother looked like, how of all the men she could have loved, she loved her father so much to have her. But to think of that made her also question… what could her mother have done…to leave her behind with her father and disappear for so long.

_Not now, baby. One day… one day I promise I’ll tell you everything. When you’re a little older… a little braver. A little more like her… then I’ll tell you everything you need to know about your mother._

Fareeha looks down at her dangling, pouting naturally as though deep in thought. She hasn’t said anything and Jack is beginning to worry the weight of those words he sputter. He feels the regret thick in his throat, how could he have asked something so callous to a mere child?

“Hey I’m sorr—”

“I don’t know.” Her voice echoes a little softer than usual, the cheeky tone underlying all disappeared from her words. “Papi doesn’t like talking about it.”

“But… don’t you want a complete family too?”

Fareeha looks confused for a moment before she continues, “…papi is my family. We’re family.”

“What about your mother? Don’t you miss her too?”

He doesn’t know why he’s so persistent about it. A sort of insecurity, a displacement. Maybe a certainty, an acknowledgement. To know if he has a place in the household, or to know if he’s on a timer to boot. Most of his mind knows his place—a bystander and two passers-by just crossing the pages of their separate lives and there will come a time when the adventures will have to end and they will have to go their own ways. He is mostly aware of it, represented by his appreciation for what the Reyes have done for him, which they didn’t have to, and he would be in their debt for the rest of his life. He would do everything in his power to be there for them when the time comes for it, and he was sure as hell he would never want to lose any connections with his little imp.

But along with such desires…came _greed_.

A greed called _attachment_ …

…an attachment called _family_.

He’s only human. Desires for connection and ties is the basics of being human. How often does one come to cross paths with another that could resonate so similarly to that of theirs? Jack knows he’s not a very likeable person given how frank and cold he can be at times. _Plank_ is what some of his ex-partners have described him as, how devoid of passion and fire they have hoped in him. But everyone desires a love like fire—at least Jack tells himself that—and his incapacity to give that is what breaks everyone of them. He can’t fake it, it wasn’t as though he didn’t try.

But with Gabriel… he didn’t try to impress him. Gabriel was the most difficult person anyone can imagine dealing with yet he was the most comfortable Jack has ever spent time with. Being the _plank_ he is and all, he was accepted by both Reyes just the way he is.

Thus any tender thoughts that he could possibly lose this connection…

“I… I don’t know, Jack.” Her nervous voice brings him back to reality and to her, “…is it weird if I say I don’t know if I miss her or want her back…?”

Her reply shook him.

“It’s like…” she stops to muse for a little, as though trying her hardest to figure out how she wants to answer next, “…it’s like… I don’t know how she looks like, how she sounds like… I can’t imagine anything about her…”

What was he thinking?

“…I don’t know how to imagine living with a person that I don’t have a face to.”

_Jesus fucking Christ Jack Morrison, what were you fucking thinking?_

“…is it…bad….? That I—”

Before she could continue her sentence Jack got up from his side of the seat and pulls her into his embrace. And despite the earlier disgust with how grimy his clothes were, how much grease were over him and how she was in disapproval, she buries her face deep into his chest as her eyes welled up to its brim. She closes her eyes tightly as the tears wets his dirty tank top, and as though sensing that, Jack tightens his embrace around the little girl even more so. It felt really nice to be able to hold her closely as though he were her own, but it felt even better feeling her tiny little arms clinging onto his clothes much like she was pulling him closer to her too, her generous acceptance—or forgiveness—to him for making a little girl cry like that.

He shouldn’t have thrown those doubts at a child who has never met her mother to figure out her own feelings if she wanted her back in her life. The way Fareeha doubts herself if she was making a really awful response is ingrained in his mind, the look of guilt plastered across her face slowly eating him alive.

It's not her fault that she doesn't know how to relate, but neither should he have steered her towards a stereotypical expectation for a family, that of which sits a father and a mother because he implied that her family isn’t complete without a _mother_. And this isn’t true, it isn’t at all. She doesn't need to reason with him, shouldn't have to in the first place. Family comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes; they all come in their own complete packages and none of them should be defined by societal regiment.

“No. Stop.” Jack breathes slowly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

Fareeha doesn’t move.

“You are right. You and Gabriel, you two are family. That’s all there is to it, really.” His voice rasps into a soft tender comfort as he raises his hand to comb through the smooth black strands at the back of her head, “No one should have to tell you otherwise.”

His gentle touch makes her smile a little. And his voice. It’s such a safe and familiar feeling.

Just like how her father does it when he holds her in his arms.

“…and you too.”

Jack looks down at her as she speaks, her eyes meeting his into a bigger smile now.

“You’re _family_ too… Jack.”

She loves this cooing, this feeling Jack makes her feel like she was his family too.

And she doesn’t know how much those words meant to Jack, how much they saved him from his thoughts. It’s an amazing thing… how what little words can do to comfort and ease a person’s soul.

Jack gently lets her go but she clings onto him nonetheless, grinning from side to side as though the earlier concerns were far gone from her mind. She has her mischievous grin on again, and something about that look just tickles his funny bones and made him grin back at her.

“What are you plotting, little imp?”

“I want a piggyback home!” Fareeha explodes in excitement as she throws her arms up again, “Carry me back home, Jack!”

Not wanting to give in so easily even though he knew he was going to, he throws his tutor authority on the table and smirks, “But I’m your tutor.”

“…if you don’t, I’m gonna tell papi you bought me two ice cream today.”

 _This little shit!_ And Jack laughs out warmly, playing her game along, “Dammit!”

And with that he kneels down back facing her, feeling her petite frame crawling onto his back as she slapped her arms around his shoulders to grab onto him. He then slowly stands up and hold his thighs to the side of his body before walking out of the pavilion back in the direction they came from. The sun has slowly begun to set and the temperature is cooling down into night, it was the perfect timing for a slow walk back, but he knows what’s waiting at home is even better.

“These chicken wings had better be good if they’re going to cost me this ride home.”

Fareeha cheers on loudly and giggles, “They’re the best!”

 


End file.
